


I Can Easily Understand

by Penknife



Category: Jolene - Dolly Parton (Song)
Genre: F/F, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/pseuds/Penknife
Summary: When I walk into the bar, I think I’ll find him with Jolene.





	I Can Easily Understand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raktajinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/gifts).



When I walk into the bar, I think I’ll find him with Jolene. Instead, she’s sitting alone at the bar, toying with the glass in front of her and chewing on a cherry stem. She looks like an advertisement for mischief, and I’m glad he’s not here. He never could resist that much temptation.

She catches my eye before I can back out. “We never get to talk. Why don’t you come and have a drink with me?”

I sit down beside her and feel like I always do next to her, awkward and plain. I sip one beer, cold in its long-necked bottle, but the words come tumbling out like I’m drunk on my own misery.

“Please don’t take him just because you can.”

She shakes her head at me. “What makes you think he’d come running if I snapped my fingers?”

“Anyone would,” I say, looking at that tumbling red hair and the swell of her breasts in her tight shirt and the way she turns that cherry stem round in her fingers. “Anyone with any sense would come running anytime you called.”

“Is that how it is?” she asks, and smiles real slow. She puts her hand on my knee, and I don’t move it away. It feels strange and good, and there’s part of me that wants her to slide it up higher. “Would you come running?”

And maybe I don’t have any sense, because I lean in, and that’s all it takes for her to put her arm around me and kiss me, like she doesn’t care if anyone in the bar sees. She tastes like strong liquor and sweet cherries.

“I’m tired of crying over you,” I say, but when her lips meet mine again, I think I won’t be crying over her anymore.


End file.
